Chapter Text
Chapter 01: Clichés
Episode 01: With Friends Like These...
Your father was talking while he drove, but you weren't listening. Instead, you looked through the passenger window and wondered just what the hell you did wrong to deserve this.
Bullworth was a homely town, small and cozy if it wasn't for the reputation it had garnered. Although, the brochures made it seem like a paradise--the homes and private school were expensive enough to line the streets with gold if the mayor chose to do so--, the town itself was every bit as cold and callous as the ocean that bordered it.
However, it was nice to look at. You were so very used to big cities and blinding lights that the close-knit suburbia felt like a breath of fresh air. And its inhabitants and aged buildings were certainly more entertaining than your father could ever be.
Most of the buildings were bricked and connected through plazas and alleyways. The ground was almost completely spotless, save for the occasional fall leaf or random banana peel, it seemed as if you could eat straight off the pavement if you were so inclined. It was almost weird to see how pristine Bullworth was compared to your last residency, but you knew just as well as anyone how deceiving looks could be.
"How have you been feeling?" your father asked, allowing his hand to stray from the steering wheel and to your shoulder to pat it awkwardly. The motion made his suit sleeve inch up his arm and expose his gold rimmed watch. The glass, caught by the sunlight, shined directly in your eyes.
You shrugged his hand off of you. He didn't care, he couldn't even pretend he did since his poker face was just about as transparent as his greed. But what made it worse was that you didn't even feel bad anymore; you were old enough to realize how this transaction worked. He needed an heir to his company and you needed shelter, food and an education.
Love was not part of the contract.
When his hand dropped, he didn't seem any less or more friendly towards you. He simply placed it back on the wheel, ten and two, and continued driving. It was stupid of him to even try to act the part of the loving father, really. That opportunity sailed a ship straight into the Bermuda Triangle and sunk there, dead and as unimportant as it was the moment he found out you were a girl.
Your eyes watered, but you couldn't tell if it was because you just realized how fucked your life was or because you were having a late reaction to his watch, so you just sat there and tried to focus on something, anything else.
And that was when they caught your eye. Teenagers sharply dressed in light blue vests and well-ironed khakis. There were two standing in front of the boxing club, one sported boxing tape and a black eye while another stood in front of him, laughing and probably joking about the other's injury.
"They seem like a nice couple of guys," your father commented, apparently catching your staring. "See, those are they types of people you should be around; the ones that aren't in gangs."
You made a disgusted sound, folded your arms and sunk further into your seat. If they were anything like how you thought they were, they were exactly the ones you wanted to avoid.
"Oh, come on, now." your father chuckled, "You are interested in boys, aren't you?"
Your face heated up, "It really isn't any of your business who I'm interested or not interested in, Father."
He turned to look at you, his eyes hardened and his lips thinned. "Excuse me?"
"I said--!"
And that was when it hit you.
It takes only so much force to kill a human. Fragile bones, thin skin and an inherent need to breathe are just a few things that account for the flimsy existence we call life. Anything could happen at any time or place. The universe didn't give a fuck how you felt.
And today, the universe decided you needed to get into a car accident, because exactly what the hell were you complaining about, again?
You jerked forward, your seat belt catching you and restricting your movement just enough to save you from deploying the air bag with a quick head butt. Your neck, however, was not saved from anything and as you fell backwards, it snapped back causing your skull to scramble what brains you had left.
A few seconds passed in complete silence before you turned towards where your father was supposed to be, but apparently he had already stepped out of the car. Suddenly, a loud ringing flooded your ears and you wondered if you had actually hit your head, because was cloudy.
Slowly your hearing buzzed into normalcy and soon you felt able enough to step outside of the car and examine the damage.
"You moronic asshole!" your father screamed as he stepped closer to the driver that had rear-ended his vehicle. "Do you know how much this car cost? More than your worthless life!"
The stranger's former worried expression turned irate upon hearing your father's threats, "Fuck you, man! You stopped where there wasn't even a stop sign, how the hell was I supposed to know--?!"
"You are going to pay for these damages in full!" Your father yelled, his finger pointing dangerously close to the stranger's chest, as if his index was the most deadly thing in the world and he wished he could stab it straight through the man's heart, "Either we settle this now, or my lawyer is going to have a hell of a time bankrupting you and whatever family is unfortunate enough to have you, for the next three generations!"
"At least I have more than one generation; you look like the only person you've ever kissed was your mother you inbred, turkey-faced fuck!"
If there was any more testosterone in the air, fists would have been flying.
Your face burned as several nosy on-lookers shook their heads at the fight before them. You grabbed your only bag and quickly abandoned the scene.
You didn't bother telling your father you were going to leg it to the academy since he seemed so engrossed with making loud, obnoxious conversation in the middle of a street. Instead, you pulled out your phone and texted him a quick message:
-I walked to school. See you next year.-
----
As the sun began to fall you found yourself completely lost. There were apparently four districts in Bullworth and you were almost jumped in two of them. Bullworth may not have its "gangs", but it did have groups that claimed specific territories and beat those who were unlike them. So, after running and playing the worst form of Hide 'N Seek, you were where you last saw those guys in the light blue vests.
They were gone, of course, having probably went back home or to school since it was getting pretty late, but there were still a couple of teenagers milling about. These, however, were wearing leather jackets and denim jeans.
The Outsiders must have been one of hell of a popular book around here.
They didn't seem unfriendly, though, despite their fashion choices. They looked exactly like the gang--"group" that had tried to corner you near the train tracks. But they weren't trying to attack you like the others had. So, this area must be neutral territory. Good to know.
"Hey, guys." you called, casually smoothing out your uniform skirt as you addressed them. "Do you mind telling me where the--...oh."
Apparently they were doing something illicit, because by the time you reached them, they had run off and you were left standing there as an empty spray can rolled abandoned on the floor in front of a fresh, dripping tag that read:
NOBODY LIKES RICH, SPOILED BRATS!
And although it wasn't as artful as it could have been, you had to admit the statement was true. But, on the other side of things, no one liked litter-bugs either, so you picked up can with the intention of throwing it away.
As you turned to leave, already formulating an idea about the students you'll find within the school by just that little piece of graffiti, you heard the distinct sound of police sirens. "Finally," you thought, watching and waiting as the officer stepped out of his car somewhere near you, "maybe he'll be able to help me."
"Stop that right now!" he yelled and suddenly he was running towards you.
"What in the...--?" it was then that you realized exactly how this looked to him and you dropped the can, "Oh, shit."
You managed to twist and run away just before he was able to grab you. "I didn't do anything, I swear!" You yelled, hoping to placate the man despite the obvious crazy glint in his eyes.
"You have the right to remain silent!" he yelled, and for a second you wondered if he was supposed to say that before or after he arrested you to make the statement legitimate. But as your lungs began to burn and your thighs ached, you decided it didn't matter.
You weaved through the alleyways, darting past garbage cans and wooden boxes, narrowly missing disrupting a group of teenagers smoking behind a bike shop near the road. You could still hear his footsteps however, but his breathing was just as shallow as yours.
Crap. You really needed to get more exercise, or you were going to get yourself arrested for a crime you didn't do because you were too winded to run any longer. Luckily for you, the officer was the first to give in, stopping to rest his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
This was your chance.
You either needed to disappear or get comfy in some handcuffs, because you had only moments before the guy was rested enough to chase you farther than you could ever possibly go.
And then you noticed the stairway leading down to the beach and took your chance. Picking up more speed, you leapt from the top stair all the way to the bottom, catching the railing with one hand to steady yourself when you landed awkwardly on your main ankle.
It popped and you just about screamed and tumbled to the sand. Some got in your mouth, but honestly, that was secondary in your mind. You sat up, granulates sticking to your skin as you tried to nurse your pain into something more bearable so that you could find a more substantial place to hide while that cop was looking for you.
You somehow managed to prop yourself against the tall wall lining the beach and hobbled your way to the dark under passage of some random stone bridge.
By the time you got there you were as tired as you had ever been. Every muscle in your body was so sore that all you could manage to do was plop yourself down on the cement and relieve the strain on your back by pulling off your backpack and throwing it in front of you.
And that was when you saw him, but he had been staring at you. "I know it's probably none of my business," he said, voice low and as amused as his smirk portrayed him to be, "but it looks like you need some help."
You looked at him and took immediate notice of the royal blue uniform vest he was wearing and the red bike he was leaning against. Right now, he was the person you wanted to get to know.
"Yeah," you confirmed, sitting up and trying your best to tidy the dirt encrusted vest you were now annoyed you would have to wash, "yeah, I really do."
His smirk turned into a smile that actually seemed caring as he walked to you. "I know, I saw you down the beach a mile away; that was a pretty tall jump you made."
"Well, I was being chased by a sociopath, so I made a quick decision." you responded honestly, laughing the tiniest bit as you did.
"So, Gary's out already, huh?" The guy mentioned with a chuckle, leaning down to check the ankle you were subconsciously cradling.
Your brows furrowed, "What?"
The guy shook his head and began to prod the already swelling joint with a surprisingly gentle touch. You still hissed though, and he apologized.
"It looks like you got yourself a shiny new sprain." He remarked, adding, "Fun way to start the school year, I bet."
"I'm sure there's a nurse at the academy that will help me." You mentioned, hinting at your need for a ride back to school.
He laughed, "There sure is, but her bedside manner is as kind as her age was to her face. I know someone that will patch you up without the crotchety old lady talk."
You smiled, suddenly hopeful, "Really?" Maybe it was just the adults that were crazy, because it didn't look like the teenagers were as bad as everyone back home had told you they were.
The guy had already grabbed your bag and was helping you stand before you even agreed, "Yeah. She's a hell of a girl, but she's nicer than you'd think she is at first glance."
He climbed onto the bike, straddling the frame to allow you room to sit on the seat. You did so awkwardly, almost tilting over as you tried to balance on a single foot. He caught you, and led your hand to grab his waist.
"Relax for a bit, I'll get us there in no time--just don't fall."
You nodded, more to yourself than to him, because you were unsure if you could even try to comply with his demand.
Falling was the only thing you were good at.